


Starch White

by cimmery



Series: Lackluster [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, idek what im doing, other members may appear later, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimmery/pseuds/cimmery
Summary: Minhyuk never realized he let the white paint take over his life. And he definitely never realized he needed a person. That is until he unintentionally met Hyungwon.





	Starch White

**Author's Note:**

> 9/26/2018 : small revisions

The world didn’t always look so gloomy. No, it wasn’t that the Earth’s suddenly lost all of its luster and life. It was more like his outlook of life has suddenly became dimmer. Less vibrant. Less lively. The sun hasn’t changed. It still shined brightly and the flowers still bloomed beautifully yet—Yet all of these colors held no vibrancy to them. There was no color he could see. No matter how beautiful he found the day to be – with sunshine in his face, the breeze light and airy, and the people busy and bustling – there was no enjoyment. Minhyuk found he couldn’t muster up the energy to fully live in the moment. There isn’t anything wrong with him – no, at least, he didn’t think so. He just found life to be moving past him without pause in monochrome colors – all in shades of gray. There is no beauty in gloom--only misery.

 

Sunshine peaked through his threadbare curtains and shone on his face. It was as if the sun made it it’s personal duty to encourage him out of bed today but. But, he couldn’t. Minhyuk laid in bed, thoughts running a muck. Going a million miles per second. Too disorderly to organize his thoughts coherently and too chaotic to concentrate on one. What was he going to do today? Did he have any assignments to do? Does he actually care or is he worrying for naught? In the end, he decided, thinking’s too much right now. More sleep it is, he firmly decided. The sun’s rays felt stronger at his decision. They shone brighter, as if the more blinding they become the more persuasive they’ll be. He hesitated. Maybe he will be productive today but—he looked at his phone and the numbers read nine in the morning. Still too early to actually accomplish anything right? He reasoned in his head. He pulled his sheets over his head, turned around, and closed his eyes. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could ignore the small voice at the back of his head telling him that another day is going to waste like this. Just maybe.

 

The next time Minhyuk awoke, the sun was beginning it’s descent in the sky. The sun rays that never left his room were now a cool orange instead of bright yellow. Happiness did it’s best to infiltrate his room – did it’s best to stain his walls with joy yet the only thing that remained was the staunch white of peeling paint filled with emptiness and apathy. It dripped down his walls and into his bed, filling him with frightening levels of calmness. Humans don’t feel to this level of emptiness, do they? It’s frightening yet disconnecting on a personal level. It tells him it’ll always be here, within him. It’s a part of him now--his companion now and forever. There wouldn’t ever be anything quite like it, as it latched onto him like a burr. Was he ever anything different or did he always feel like this? His colors muted and his emotions dulled. Perhaps … Perhaps there wasn’t anything wrong with the world. There was just something wrong with him.

 

He decided to get up from his bed when the sunlight disappeared and in its stead, moonlight shone through his wonderfully bare curtains. The moon coaxes him with intrusive lights, filtering in slowly but surely. The only solace he could take -- could be with -- is the moonlights with the moon as his witness into utter despair. He’s used to this now though. There wasn’t anything more than this – than these muted feelings of his that seem to never change and glared in his face of his failings. He wasn’t a failure, he was just. Was just human. Not infallible like precious stones. He was flimsy like the flowers who wilted without proper care and encouragement. But, if only he had grace and beauty like one. Then, at least, he could waste away contently.

 

With the moon as his witness, he prowled through the never-sleeping streets of his city. Lights flashed and flickered at him, trying to entice him to give into his inner guilt. People bustled around him – running and walking and talking loudly. He was nothing in the grand scheme of the busy streets of life. The night was still young.

 

He ducked into a nondescript café. Business was lulled but the atmosphere was comforting. The walls were a dull green and the lighting soft. The walls were entrenched with nostalgia and melancholy but was also tinged with satisfaction. It was overwhelming, to say the least. It squeezed his gut in the most uncomfortable yet familiar way. But—“Hello?” a voice drawled.

 

Minhyuk didn’t answer immediately, instead letting his eyes linger on the walls and taking in the light fixtures before slowly dragging them to the front. A man slouched with sleepy eyes and full lips greeted him. He approached the register, mind already made up and eyes never wavering away from the sleepy-eyed man. “Hello. Just an iced coffee please.” He said politely. After all, there was no need to make small talk. They wouldn’t ever cross paths again.

 

The sleepy-eyed man rung him up, pausing slightly before leaning in, “The only way to cleanse yourself is to get a cat you know? They’re wonderful for keeping pests under control.” He divulged quietly, as if the walls had ears. “The walls have ears you know?” He tilted his head with the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. His sleepy eyes stayed the same. “Of course,” He replied distractedly, eyes following the white paint that started to drip from the walls. They never seemed to leave him alone.

 

Minhyuk settled himself in a booth near the window, watching different kinds of people passing by. He occasionally sipped at his iced coffee – it tasted like desperation and coldness – but his eyes never left the windows. He let the walls of the café close in on him, entrenching him with mixtures of green and white and the soft lights blaring down upon him. The white paint that seemed to slime down further and further with each passing moment. The nostalgia and melancholy gone. Overtaken. Only this blank state of his seemed to stay. Growing stronger and stronger than before—A loud sigh interrupted his musings.

 

Shifting his eyes to the front of him, it was the sleepy-eyed man from earlier. “You really know how to bring trouble around, don’t you?” He said, not unkindly but factually as he set down his tea onto the table. The sleepy-eyed man proceeded to slid his body down the seat of the booth, sprawling his whole body out, head thrown back tiredly with eyes closed, and arms rested at the head of the booth. He opened his eyes, and looked pensive, the most change in his expression since his arrival here. “Maybe you need more than a cat,” he muttered, uncaring if he heard or not. He lulled his head back forward, eyes slowly shifting from the ceiling to him. “What you need is a person.” He confirmed, nodding softly and agreeing with himself. “You’re a genius Hyungwon,” He complimented himself.

 

“I don’t believe we know each other . . . ?” Minhyuk said with a brow raised.

 

“Ah,” the other started, dragging the vowel out. “We don’t but I can tell what you need.” He stated matter-of-factly. “You need a person to get rid of your curious case of white paint, or in other words unofficially, apathy. It’s pretty bad. Especially since you’re infecting my humble little café with it. I worked hard you know, making sure the feel didn’t clash with each other but,” He sips his tea. “Here you are.”

 

Minhyuk flushed a little, just a little, and ducked his head down. “It’s not that bad,” he mumbled unconvincingly. “The white paint has a mind of its own I—I can’t do anything about it.” He said self-deprecatingly. The sleepy-eyed man scoffed, “Nothing? It’s not that there isn’t anything you can’t do about it. It’s that you choose not to learn the cause of it,” He said pointedly, taking another long sip of his tea. “If you really wanted it gone, you would’ve fixed the root of the problem already.”

 

And, the man wasn’t wrong. It’s not that he was ignorant as to what caused it but – he couldn’t bare to acknowledge the root of his problem. He couldn’t dare to discover and identify the core of the problem. “So I was right,” He harrumphed and rolled his eyes at the audacity of him, bringing his starch white paint into his establishment unwittingly. “So. Go find your person,” He shooed, hand gestures following. “You’re bringing the mood down here.”

 

Minhyuk couldn’t believe the nerve of this person who hasn’t even introduced himself, granted he hadn’t either but that’s not the point. It was the nerve of him to—A thought crossed his mind. He smiled a cheshire cat’s smile. “Is that an offer I hear?” The other man spluttered, his tea spilling everywhere. “No.” He said firmly, but the seriousness was taken away by drops of tea dripping down his chin and his stuttering breath. “No.” He reiterated. “I am not,” he emphasized. “Not in any way offering to be your person in any means or way or—we just met!” He said, a little indignantly. “I don’t even know your name!”

 

“But,” Minhyuk pouted, eyes wide and imploring. “It was your idea!” He whined. “You have to take responsibility now. Me, a person in distress,” He dramatically splayed a hand across his forehead, the other clutching his shirt at where his heart is. A moment of silence, then a few uncertain, breathy giggles began to filter from the dramatic man himself, embarrassed and a little astonished at his actions. He quickly placed his hands in his lap, clenching at the hem of his shirt, unsure of what to do with his hands now and feeling rather self-conscious. This was the most expressed he’s been since--since a while.

 

The sleepy-eyed man across from him was no longer sleepy-eyed but rather wide-eyed and mouth a bit agape. He furrowed his brows a little, seemingly having an internal debate within. “You know what? You know. What. Yeah—it’ll help me in the long run so it’s like a win-win situation.” Nonchalantly, he placed both his hands, palms-up, on the table fingers wiggling expectantly. “Well?” He implored. “It’s your idea isn’t it.” Annoyed, Minhyuk scrunched his nose up.

 

“Actually it’s your idea but—whatever makes you sleep better at night.” And slowly moved his hands from their place on his lap to the table, inching agonizingly slow to the other man’s hands. A moment of hesitation—what-if scenarios, doubts, and a touch of despair—before finally thrusting his hands onto the other’s. Shakily grasping onto his fingers before he changed his mind.

 

“Do you accept me as your person?” He asked softly, gently squeezing his hands, a complete turn in his disposition earlier. His eyes searched his, trying to find the joke, the dishonest intentions but there was none. Minhyuk gulped slightly, voice slightly shaking as he answered, “Yes, I accept you as my person.” And it was as if the world snapped back into place. It’s colors more vibrant and visible, but still a bit muted. The rushing of blood filled his ears, the moon and it’s lights whispered congratulations, and the starch white paint wasn’t so stark anymore. It wasn’t quite as heavy anymore.

 

\---

 

“I’m Hyungwon by the way. Also, do you know how reckless it is to accept--”

 

“Yes I know,” Minhyuk hissed, interrupting what seemed to be a lecture. “Anyways, I’m Minhyuk and I’d say it’s nice to meet you but it isn’t.” He sneered a little. Hyungwon just chuckled. “Well, you’re stuck with me now, person.”

**Author's Note:**

> i think a lot


End file.
